The Reading of the Letters
by Purple Roses Poetry
Summary: Sam and Patrick experience both good and bad emotions while reading Charlie's letters. This is a sequel to my story Understanding Charlie. If you haven't read that you should read it first.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**** Hi! This is a sequel to my story, ****Understanding Charlie****. I would like to thank ****Twilight Archangel****, ****Whovian33****, ****pinkie pie's party cannon****, ****hauntedpumpkin56, cold kagome, and dreamer1293**** for commenting on my story (and anyone who happens to comment after I post this). It was the first fanfiction I have ever written, and I really wasn't sure if it was good or not. All of your positive feedback meant so much and I really do appreciate it. 3 You guys inspired this sequel! I would also like to thank everyone who followed or favorite my story. Everyone, please review again!**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own ****The Perks of Being a Wallflower**** (though I have to say that it would be really cool if I did!) Everything in bold (well, except for the Author's Note and this Disclaimer) was taken directly from ****The Perks of Being a Wallflower ****and was written by the ever so wonderful Stephen Chbosky. **

Patrick stood in the shower, letting the hot water beat against his neck. He knew the purpose of showering was to get clean, but he couldn't help but think it was also a great way to relax. He started to contemplate his day.

Nothing special had really happened that day, well, except for the fact that Charlie had dropped off his letters for he and Sam to read. But Charlie couldn't stay and hang out, he had to go back to school shopping with his mom. Patrick had told Sam that she should read the letters first since she and Charlie had that weird romantic thing going on where they both know they like each other, but for some reason that Patrick apparently didn't understand, neither of them has asked the other out yet. Patrick knew it would take Sam a couple of days to finish reading the letters. The stack Charlie had given them was the size of a novel! Normally he was a very laid back and patient guy, but he was really excited to read those letters. Charlie was so quiet, Patrick thought it would be so interesting to find out what he was thinking about all year. Plus it's kind of cool to hear about yourself from somebody else's perspective.

Patrick got out of the shower and got dressed. He thought about going to his room and listening to some music, but then he thought that watching some television would be a greater distraction from the anticipation of Charlie's letters sitting in Sam's room just waiting to be read. He sat down in his living room and watched some Full House since he couldn't find the remote and didn't care enough to get up and change it by hand. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Sam was shaking him and all the lights seemed brighter.

"Uuhh... What time is it?" Patrick asked her.

"It's 2 o'clock," she responded.

"Oh. Why did you wake me up? Is something wrong, or is it just that you couldn't stand to wait another few hours to experience my awesomeness?" He joked as he steadily became more conscious.

"Ha ha, very funny. No, I'm just nervous, and it was keeping me up. I needed someone to talk to." Sam told him, biting her thumb nail.

"What's got you so nervous?" Patrick questioned, getting ready to go into over-protective brother mode.

"It's those letters Charlie gave us. I'm really excited to read them, but at the same time I'm really scared to. Charlie's probably the greatest person I've ever meet"-

"Except for me," Patrick interrupted, trying to lighten the mood and make his sister feel better.

"Sure," Sam laughed. "Anyway, Charlie is amazing, but I think we both know that he has had some serious problems with his mental health." Patrick nodded. "I'm worried about what's in those letters. I know there's going to be something terrible, and I hate that he was in pain all year and that we didn't know and didn't help him. You know how much I love him. You love him too. He told us about how his aunt molested him, but he really didn't explain it, which is fine. It was really brave for him to tell us what he did. I'm just afraid that I'm going find out something else he didn't tell me… Something bad," Sam sighed.

"It's okay Sam, just relax. Look, I know the letters are probably not going to be very happy, but I'm still glad to read them. You've seen Charlie recently, he looks so much happier and calmer. He's starting to move on and overcome his anxieties. I think the fact that he's letting us read his letters is huge. He's finally opening up. If you read something that upsets you in those letters, just try to remember how much better Charlie is now."

"Alright," Sam told him. She gave him a small smile. She still looked pretty nervous.

"I have an idea," Patrick announced. "Why don't we read the letters together? It will be fun, and if we happen to read something not so fun, we can just remind each other that everything's okay now."

"That's a great idea!" Sam smiled bigger now. "Should we start tomorrow?"

"No. I'm wide awake now, so are you. Go get the letters and we'll read them now," Patrick said.

"Okay," Sam ran upstairs to her bedroom. Within a minute or two she was back with the letters. "Here, I've got them."

"I'm getting excited now. I'm this close," Patrick made a small space between his fingers. "To finding out all of Charlie's dirty little secrets. He better not have written anything bad about us before we were friends!" Patrick joked. Sam rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I'm sure he didn't say anything bad… about me," Sam joked back. "Okay now seriously, back to the letters. Do you want me to start reading first?" She asked. Patrick nodded, so Sam got ready and cleared her throat.

**August 25, 1991**

** Dear friend, …**

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note****: Hi guys. I'm so happy I've already had so many reviews, favorites, and follows! Special thanks to pinkie pie's party cannon (you win a metaphorical trophy for being the first reviewer!), hauntedpumpkin56, perses19, and Rob for your kind reviews. To perses19, I really appreciate your advice. Google Translate is really stupid, so I had a little bit of trouble understanding what your review said after I translated it. I'm pretty sure you told me that I should add other characters as the story progresses so it will not be like I am just copying the book (please tell me if this is not what you meant to say). I will take your advice into consideration. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. Review again! **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own ****The Perks of Being a Wallflower**** (though I have to say that it would be really cool if I did!) Everything in bold (well, except for the Author's Note and this Disclaimer) was taken directly from ****The Perks of Being a Wallflower ****and was written by the ever so wonderful Stephen Chbosky. **

**August 25, 1991 Dear friend,  
I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn't try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have. Please don't try to figure out who she is because then you might figure out who I am, and I really don't want you to do that. I will call people by different names or generic names because I don't want you to find me. I didn't enclose a return address for the same reason. I mean nothing bad by this. Honest.  
I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even if they could have. I need to know that these people exist.  
I think you of all people would understand that because I think you of all people are alive and appreciate what that means. At least I hope you do because other people look to you for strength and friendship and it's that simple. At least that's what I've heard.  
So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.  
I try to think of my family as a reason for me being this way, especially after my friend Michael stopped going to school one day last spring and we heard Mr. Vaughn's voice on the loudspeaker.  
"Boys and girls, I regret to inform you that one of our students has passed on. We will hold a memorial service for Michael Dobson during assembly this Friday."  
I don't know how news travels around school and why it is very often right. Maybe it was in the lunchroom. It's hard to remember. But Dave with the awkward glasses told us that Michael killed himself. His mom played bridge with one of Michael's neighbors and they heard the gunshot.  
I don't really remember much of what happened after that except that my older brother came to Mr. Vaughn's office in my middle school and told me to stop crying. Then, he put his arm on my shoulder and told me to get it out of my system before Dad came home. We then went to eat french fries at McDonald's and he taught me how to play pinball. He even made a joke that because of me he got to skip an afternoon of school and asked me if I wanted to help him work on his Camaro. I guess I was pretty messy because he never let me work on his Camaro before.  
At the guidance counselor sessions, they asked the few of us who actually liked Michael to say a few words. I think they were afraid that some of us would try to kill ourselves or something because they looked very tense and one of them kept touching his beard.  
Bridget who is crazy said that sometimes she thought about suicide when commercials come on during TV. She was sincere and this puzzled the guidance counselors. Carl who is nice to everyone said that he felt very sad, but could never kill himself because it is a sin.  
This one guidance counselor went through the whole group and finally came to me.  
"What do you think, Charlie?"  
What was so strange about this was the fact that I had never met this man because he was a "specialist" and he knew my name even though I wasn't wearing a name tag like they do in open house.  
"Well, I think that Michael was a nice guy and I don't understand why he did it. As much as I feel sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me."  
I just reread that and it doesn't sound like how I talk. Especially in that office because I was crying still. I never did stop crying.**

Patrick and Sam sat in their living room reading Charlie's letters. Reading was making them tired, but the letters were almost addicting to them. They desperately wanted to finish them, but at the same time they never wanted them to end. Both of them had somber looks on their faces. They hadn't even finished the first letter, and already Charlie's story was so sad.

"At least we know we're not the reason why Charlie's always crying. Apparently it's just something he does," Patrick tried to cheer Sam up. She gave him half a smile and shook her head.

"You know I never once asked Charlie about Michael. I didn't ask if he missed him, or even what they liked to do together. He was so sad about Michael dying and I never even asked." Sam looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"You know how Charlie is. If you talked to him about Michael he would start crying, and then you'd feel terrible about asking him about Michael. Remember what we talked about before we started reading, Charlie is much better now. Letting us read these letters shows how much he cares about us. You've been a great friend to him and you have nothing to be guilty about, okay?" Patrick tried to reassure Sam. She nodded but still looked upset. "I think I should read now," he told her.

_Charlie better get a lot less angsty once he meets me and gets some friends_, Patrick thought.

**The counselor said that he suspected that Michael had "problems at home" and didn't feel like he had anyone to talk to. That's maybe why he felt all alone and killed himself.  
Then, I started screaming at the guidance counselor that Michael could have talked to me. And I started crying even harder. He tried to calm me down by saying that he meant an adult like a teacher or a guidance counselor. But it didn't work and eventually my brother came by the middle school in his Camaro to pick me up.  
For the rest of the school year, the teachers treated me different and gave me better grades even though I didn't get any smarter. To tell you the truth, I think I made them all nervous.  
Michael's funeral was strange because his father didn't cry. And three months later he left Michael's mom. At least according to Dave at lunchtime. I think about it sometimes. I wonder what went on in Michael's house around dinner and TV shows. Michael never left a note or at least his parents didn't let anyone see it. Maybe it was "problems at home." I wish I knew. It might make me miss him more clearly. It might have made sad sense.  
One thing I do know is that it makes me wonder if I have "problems at home" but it seems to me that a lot of other people have it a lot worse. Like when my sister's first boyfriend started going around with another girl and my sister cried for the whole weekend.  
My dad said, "There are other people who have it a lot worse."  
And my mom was quiet. And that was that. A month later, my sister met another boy and started playing happy records again. And my dad kept working. And my mom kept sweeping. And my brother kept fixing his Camaro. That is, until he left for college at the beginning of the summer. He's playing football for Penn State but he needed the summer to get his grades right to play football.  
I don't think that there is a favorite kid in our family. There are three of us and I am the youngest. My brother is the oldest. He is a very good football player and likes his car. My sister is very pretty and mean to boys and she is in the middle. I get straight A's now like my sister and that is why they leave me alone.  
My mom cries a lot during TV programs. My dad works a lot and is an honest man. My Aunt Helen used to say that my dad was going to be too proud to have a midlife crisis. It took me until around now to understand what she meant by that because he just turned forty and nothing has changed.  
My Aunt Helen was my favorite person in the whole world. **

Sam and Patrick got quiet again. They knew that Charlie's aunt had sexually abused him, but they hadn't wrapped their heads around the fact that Charlie didn't even know he was molested until he had the breakdown in June, after Sam had touched him during an intimate moment in her bedroom.

They knew that when Charlie wrote these letters he had no idea what she did to him, but it was still really weird for them to read about how much he loved her. It made them wonder if he still loved her so much. He did say that he wasn't mad at her.

**My Aunt Helen was my favorite person in the whole world. She was my mom's sister. She got straight A's when she was a teenager and she used to give me books to read. My father said that the books were a little too old for me, but I liked them so he just shrugged and let me read.  
My Aunt Helen lived with the family for the last few years of her life because something very bad happened to her. Nobody would tell me what happened then even though I always wanted to know. When I was around seven, I stopped asking about it because I kept asking like kids always do and my Aunt Helen started crying very hard.  
That's when my dad slapped me, saying, "You're hurting your aunt Helen's feelings!" I didn't want to do that, so I stopped. Aunt Helen told my father not to hit me in front of her ever again and my father said this was his house and he would do what he wanted and my mom was quiet and so were my brother and sister.  
I don't remember much more than that because I started crying really hard and after a while my dad had my mom take me to my room. It wasn't until much later that my mom had a few glasses of white wine and told me what happened to her sister. Some people really do have it a lot worse than I do. They really do.  
I should probably go to sleep now. It's very late. I don't know why I wrote a lot of this down for you to read. The reason I wrote this letter is because I start high school tomorrow and I am really afraid of going.  
Love always,  
Charlie**

"That's the end of the letter," Patrick said. Sam nodded. "Charlie has a _different_ family," He added. That made Sam laugh.

"He's very honest with his writing," Sam commented. "He doesn't leave anything out because it's too awkward, or embarrassing, or depressing even. These letters are really going to play with my emotions, aren't they?" Sam asked. Patrick nodded.

"Let's stop for tonight. I'm so tired. We can read more tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'm exhausted too. It's almost four o'clock in the morning. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."


End file.
